The Snake Pit
by ChaserOfTheQuaffle
Summary: Pureblood society is complex and treacherous. There is no room for blundering. This is what Harry must learn as he wades into the pit of writhing, ferocious purebloods. He finds help in Ellyn Windsor, pureblood rebel, and Ginny Weasley. HP/GW
1. Unseeing

The Gryffindor common room was a busy place that night, with groups of people curled up in armchairs and circling the fireplaces on the floor. A few people studied, but most were playing chess or just talking. Ginny Weasley, however, was dedicating most of her time that evening to glaring daggers at the complete idiot that was Harry Potter.

"I hope you know that it's pretty obvious who you're staring at," said Ellyn Windsor, fellow fifth year, Gryffindor, and close friend of Ginny's. She idly turned the page in her text as she spoke.

"I know. Why can't he just see that I like him? What can I do to make him like me?" Ginny wailed softly, giving up trying to stare him down. If he hadn't noticed her icy glare in an hour, it was unlikely he ever would.

"I don't think you can _make_ Harry do anything he doesn't want to do. That's just the way he is." Hermione looked up from her book to add to the conversation.

"That's not what I meant and you know it, Hermione Granger!"

Ellyn gave Ginny a tired look. "You mean you want to know how you should be around him so that he at least likes you as a friend. Is that about right?"

"Exactly! I don't think he even knows I exist! Cho this, Cho that, it never ends!"

Hermione looked uncomfortable. "Actually, Ginny, that pretty much has ended. It ended last year, after the DA...you know."

Ginny wilted. "I know. I'm just so frustrated with him. All I want is to impress him, to have him notice me. But then as soon as he looks at me, all I want to do is run."

Ellyn smiled wickedly. "You can tell that's what you want to do. It IS what you do when he looks at you," she said before her face grew more serious. "But in all honesty, Ginny, it probably wasn't the best thing to do for all those years."

"Yeah, when you do that, well...he probably thinks it means you don't like him." Hermione leaned away slightly.

"He WHAT? He thinks I hate him? Oh, what do I do, what do I do?" Ginny brought her legs up against her chest and hugged them close.

"You could try talking to him. That's what most people do when they want to get to know someone better." Ellyn said, raising her eyebrows.

"I can't just talk to him! I'm a girl! I'm younger than he is! He won't talk about anything with me!" Ginny was getting hysterical, now.

"Trust me, Ginny, there is one subject that Harry would talk about with anyone on the planet: Quidditch." Hermione spoke with a certainty that was hard to disbelieve.

"Hey, and look at that! You like quidditch, too! How will this ever work out?" Ellyn's voice was spiked with sarcasm.

Ginny's breathing eased. "Yes, quidditch. I can talk about quidditch. Of course I can. If there is one thing that I can talk about to anyone, it would be qudditch. Naturally I can—"

"Ginny? You're babbling." Hermione's voice gently cut through Ginny's assurances. Ellyn looked slightly amused. Hermione continued. "Why don't you talk to him over Christmas? Is he going to your house over break this year?"

"No, he's staying here. So am I, though, I don't think I can take another Christmas with Auntie Muriel. Are you staying too, guys?"

Hermione nodded her confirmation. However, Ellyn's face fell slightly. "I'll be at home this Christmas. Yet again," she said with a resigned voice.

"Ah, yes, the annual ball. More like an annual get-together of pigheaded, stuck-up, boring purebloods pretending to have a party." Ginny had heard enough about the Windsor Christmas Ball over the years to make a judgment on it. The girl's response to that statement turned many heads in the common room, everyone straining to see what possibly could make three girls burst into laughter so suddenly.

"Do you have to go? You could say you had too much classwork to attend," Hermione suggested, after they calmed down.

Ellyn looked tempted. "I don't think that's going to work. My parents use me as a showcase. They brag about me all year long, and then try to prove everything they said all in one night. There's no way I'll be allowed to miss this one. Plus, mother wants to 'get me settled down' this year. In other words, she wants to marry me off and never see me again."

The girls were silent for a while. Life was moving a bit too fast for all of them.

* * *

"Pawn to B4," Ron said, looking bored. The chess game had been going on for an hour and he was quite ready to wrap it up.

Harry looked triumphant. "King to B4. That was stupid, Ron, you completely played into my hands!" he crowed. The board was now nearly empty of Ron's pieces.

Ron smiled. "Knight to E3. Checkmate."

"Seriously? How did I miss that? I can't believe I didn't see that!" Harry was furious with himself.

"I know how. Hey everyone! Medical miracle! Living proof that man can live without a brain!" Ron called. People were looking at them disgustedly. Harry pretended to be insulted. An evil smile spread across his face.

"What are you doing? Why are you looking at me like that? ...Harry?"

Harry leapt out of his seat and attacked him. They landed on the rug and proceeded to swipe and punch at each other in a playful way. Life was good.

* * *

The girls looked on silently, eyebrows raised. Ellyn looked revolted. "He would die if he were in my place. The purebloods would tear his manners to shreds."

"If he were in your place, he would have grown up learning proper pureblood manners." Hermione commented reasonably.

"Let me have my fun, won't you?" Ellyn was annoyed. "He might get torn to shreds anyway, but I doubt it. He probably won't accept."

"What do you mean? He won't be going to the Windsor Ball, will he?" Ginny piped up.

"He's getting an invitation. The pureblood society is 'allowing' half-bloods to marry purebloods as long as their muggle family is dead. More like forcing them to. Anyway, of course _Harry Potter_ jumped straight to the top of their list for possibilities." Ellyn informed them.

Hermione looked confused. "Harry's muggle family isn't dead. He lives with them."

"That's easily, ahem, _remedied_, if he wanted to join pureblood society." Ellyn looked sad. Hermione and Ginny looked sickened. Silence reigned for a moment.

"I'm really glad my family's been written off the map. These people are ruthless." Ginny shuddered.

"You said you're staying here for Christmas this year, right?" Ellyn asked. When Ginny nodded, Ellyn got a wise look in her eye. "Then my mother will assume that you are ready to disown your family and 'assume your rightful place in society.' You'll get an invite, too, most likely."

Ginny paled. "I don't think I should go...I'm not very good at all that pureblood stuff."

"Not even if it means you'll get to keep an eye on Harry, if he goes?" Hermione sneakily put in, smiling wickedly.

"Shut up, Hermione."

Two grins were quickly hidden behind hands so that a certain fiery red-head wouldn't notice them.

* * *

Please read and review! This is my first story, so I'm really excited to hear what you have to say. By the way, if you're planning on continuing to read, I LOVE you! Meant in the most appropriate of ways, of course.

~Boston


	2. The Trap

**Disclaimer: I forgot to mention that I don't own Harry Potter in the first chapter. Do you think J.K. Rowling will sue me? I hope not.**

* * *

The first snowfall came on the first of December. Young students went out to romp in the snow, while the older ones watched from the windows, hands wrapped around steaming cups of hot chocolate. Christmas decorations went up everywhere. Suits of armor began their yearly Christmas caroling and an aroma of peace enveloped the castle.

However, pureblood society was getting nervous. Any day, the invitations to the Annual Windsor Christmas Ball would arrive. It would be the height of dishonor to not receive one, as all of pureblood society would be there. They wouldn't have to wait long.

At breakfast the next morning, the huge, ornate doors to the Great Hall swung open. Young teens entered, wearing green velvet outfits and bearing red velvet pillows. On the pillows were the objects of interest. Small scrolls of parchment adorned with a silver seal and bow were placed atop the velvety surface.

The couriers noticeably were heading toward the Slytherin table, although a few headed to where the Ravenclaws were eating. Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were sadly neglected, even those that were pureblood came from too blood traitorous of families to receive an invitation.

"This is only the first wave," Ellyn whispered to Ginny, "meant only for the most high and respected members of society. Yours may come late, after classes, maybe even at dinner."

"What about Harry?" Ginny questioned, trying not to sound too curious.

"After you, probably. He isn't pureblood, so Mother would have wanted to wait to invite him. Not that he'll know he's being insulted, of course." Ellyn sniggered.

"Are you sure he'll get one? I don't want to accept if there isn't going to be anyone to talk to," Ginny asked nervously.

"I'll be there, silly," Ellyn answered. "Even though I probably won't be able to talk with you very much. I have to dance with every guy there. One of the many drawbacks of being the hostess' daughter." Ginny looked sympathetic.

The Great Hall was clearing out, and both girls got up to head to class. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

"Miss Ginevra Weasley?" Ellyn and Ginny were on their way to Defense when one of the couriers approached them. "I have a note here for you, with the compliments of Lord and Lady Everett Windsor," he said, offering the parchment on the velvet pillow. She took it gingerly.

"Lord and Lady Everett Windsor wish to cordially invite you to the Annual Windsor Christmas Ball. The party will be held on the twenty-fourth night of December beginning at six-o'clock." Ginny read aloud. "Wow."

"May I tell the Windsor family your answer, miss?" the courier prompted politely.

"Yes. You may tell them that..." she gulped and looked at Ellyn, who smiled encouragingly. "You may tell them that I would be most pleased to attend such a wonderful gala, and that I will see them on the night of the twenty-fourth."

"Yes, miss. Have a wonderful afternoon." The courier bowed to both girls before turning and taking his leave. As he walked away, Ginny's face began to fall.

"What have I done?" she whispered, mortified, to Ellyn. "I can't talk like that to everyone all night! I'll kill myself!"

Hermione walked up just soon enough to hear this last. "You know, Ginny, there are people you can see for when you have these feelings. They don't have to dominate you."

"That's not what I was talking about! I was talking about...about..." Ginny looked up and saw the twinkle in Hermione's eyes. "Why you...you...You heard everything, didn't you!"

Hermione giggled. "I heard some, then filled in what I missed. So, you're going to the Windsor Ball, huh."

"Yes, I don't know what got into me to say yes. Wait, yes I do! It was HER fault!" Ginny joked, pointing her finger at Ellyn.

"My fault? Innocent little me?" Ellyn asked, putting on her saddest face.

"Yes, all your fault. You made me do it!" Ginny's face showed false anger. She ginned slightly, unable to keep up the guise.

"I suppose it's also my fault that we're late for class, right?" Ellyn asked with a long-suffering sigh.

"What? Oh, great, that's just great. Yes, it's your fault, everything's your fault. Snape's going to kill us and it will be your fault! We'll never see the light of day again, we're going to spend so much time in that Defense classroom doing detention—" Ginny started ranting as they took off down the hall, leaving Hermione behind.

"Um, Gin? I think you might be overreacting just a lit—"

"I am NOT overreacting, Ellyn Windsor! Snape will kill us! He will, you watch! He'll..." and so it continued.

* * *

The two girls left Defense intact, with only ten points removed from each of them. "I don't suppose 'sorry' would cut it?" Ginny asked, smiling sheepishly.

Ellyn looked over at her. "It's okay. You're just stressed. But Doctor Ellyn knows how to make you better. Seeing the guy of your dreams make a fool of himself in front of a pureblood courier ought to do it, right?" Ginny smiled rather wickedly and turned to the middle of the entrance hall where Harry was walking to dinner with Ron and Hermione.

"Mr. Harry James Potter, sir?" asked a rather frightened looking courier. When Harry turned, the boy went on. "I have a note here for you, with the compliments of Lord and Lady Everett Windsor."

"Thanks," Harry said as he took it and skimmed it. When he finished, he handed it to Ron and Hermione to read.

"Could I convey your answer to Mr. and Mrs. Windsor?" the boy timidly asked.

"Er..." Hermione tapped Harry on the shoulder and whispered to him before he could finish his answer. She pointed over towards Ellyn and Ginny. When he looked, Ellyn drew her finger across her throat in an 'If You Do This You're Dead' signal.

"Sir? _Can _I convey your answer?" the boy prompted. Harry shrugged Hermione off his shoulder.

"Sure, it sounds like fun. I'll go," Harry nodded to the courier before turning to head toward dinner. Hermione looked over at Ellyn and Ginny with raised eyebrows.

"He is so dead," Ellyn said simply. "I almost feel bad for the guy. I mean, he has no idea what he's getting into."

"Maybe you should tell him," Ginny suggested.

Ellyn smiled. "That'll be an interesting conversation," she informed Ginny resignedly.

* * *

"Hey, Harry," Ellyn said, sitting down. Harry looked slightly startled at the abrupt greeting by this only vaguely familiar girl.

"Er, hi....er...Emily?" Harry tried, looking nervous.

"Ellyn. Ellyn Windsor. Recognize the name?" Ellyn asked him.

"Sure, you're that girl...who...er...got it." Harry told her. "You were in the DA last year, right?" Ellyn nodded. "I knew it! Wait...Windsor...that pureblood party?"

"I figured you'd get there eventually," Ellyn sighed. "Tell me, Harry," she added amicably, "Did you or did you not see me telling you not to agree to go?" She asked, blue-hazel eyes flashing dangerously.

"Yeah, I did, Hermione pointed you out to me. The party sounded like fun, so I agreed. End of story," Harry told her. Across the table, Hermione's head fell into her hand in exasperation.

"Yeah, I pretty much got that part," Ellyn informed him dryly. "You don't have any idea what you are getting into, do you?"

"Should I?"

"YES! You should," Ellyn told him.

"Care to enlighten me?" Harry prompted.

"Gladly," Ellyn's face turned dark and almost threatening. "You're about to go into the snake pit."

"Sorry?" Ron interjected. Hermione leaned over to whisper in his ear. He began to look decidedly uncomfortable.

"You're going to be expected to know how to shake hands, ask ladies to dance, diplomatically foist off all the girls who are going to be thrust upon you," Ellyn told him. "You know how to do that?"

"Er..."

"I didn't think so," she told him, swinging her slender legs off the bench and stalking toward the doors where Ginny waited.

* * *

The girls walked toward the Gryffindor Common Room, solemnly. Eventually Ginny racked up her courage to ask. "I'm going to guess it did not go well," she hazarded. Stonily, Ellyn nodded, telling Ginny all she needed to know.

The girls noticed a ringing voice coming through the halls from behind them. They ignored it. As it became clear that whoever was shouting was calling Ellyn's name, she turned to look. Seeing messy black hair coming up the stairs, she began to walk faster. "Come on, Ginny," she said.

"Hey, Ellyn! Ellyn! ELLYN!" Harry called, louder and louder. "Ginny!" he finally called.

Ginny stiffened, grabbing Ellyn's arm and coming to a complete halt. She whirled around. "Hey, Harry," she said breathlessly.

"Hey Ginny. Look, Ellyn I have to talk to you," Harry said earnestly.

"So talk," Ellyn told him, already looking impatient. She swept her long blonde hair behind her shoulder.

"I was thinking about what you said..." Harry told her. "You know, all that stuff about how I had to behave and how I didn't know any of it?"

"Yeah...so?"

"Well I was kind of hoping..." Harry began, stopping.

"Spit it out, Harry, I've got homework," Ellyn told him.

"I was hoping you could teach me," Harry's voice was unsure. He wrung his hands nervously in front of him.

"Teach you how to be a pureblood in three weeks...hmmmmm," Ellyn mused. "All right, I'll give it a shot. Meet me in the Room of Requirement, tomorrow, right after class. We've got work to do."

"This I have got to see," Ginny muttered as the girls left Harry there.

* * *

Thanks to you all for reading! Remember: Reviews are an author's sustenance! I need encouragement, people! Drop me a note! Tell me what I need to fix, or what you liked. General is good, specific is better!

Now, to answer your questions...

**Q**: Can you describe Ellyn?

**A**: If you didn't catch any of my descriptions in this chapter, she's slender, blonde, and has blue-hazel eyes. I know, very 'Barbie-doll,' but that's the way I wanted it: the 'perfect' image of a pureblood with a far more complex mind.

I love you all! Don't forget to show me you want me to continue! Review!

~Boston


	3. And So It Begins

**I'm still fairly certain I don't own Harry Potter...You'd think I would know, wouldn't I?**

* * *

The Room of Requirement had outdone itself. It had sprouted everything that Ellyn could possibly have needed to teach Harry how to act like a pureblood. It had a table area with the complete setting, a socializing area with tables to stand at and couches in clusters, and a gorgeous mahogany dance floor. There was even a small area that acted as a veranda of sorts, with a painting of the evening stars surrounding it in three directions. Ellyn looked on, proud of her precise instructions.

"Hey Ellyn, what time is Harry supposed to—" Ginny stopped in her tracks at the door. "Wow." Her mouth was open and her eyes bulged slightly.

Ellyn smirked. "You look like a codfish. Close your mouth," she teased. "He'll be here any minute, by the way, if you even remember what you were going to ask me. So, do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's brilliant. I didn't know it could be so...elegant." Ginny tried.

"Well, I didn't know what it could do, but I shouldn't have underestimated it. It gave what I asked for and more." Ellyn responded.

"It is pretty cool. But how will it help Harry to learn everything?" Ginny asked.

"It probably won't. He's too thick to notice any difference." Ellyn said scornfully.

Ginny examined her nails. "I notice that you never insult him so much when he's actually around..." She mentioned.

"Of course not. My manners are higher than that," Ellyn responded, flipping her blonde hair behind her shoulder dramatically, and otherwise acting aloof.

"Could it also be that he taught you everything you know about self-defense?" Ginny smirked. Ellyn tackled her, the room thoughtfully providing a mat on which for them to fall. They wrestled for a moment or two until—

"And this is the girl I'm supposed to learn manners from," said a voice from the doorway. "I trust that this is some ancient tradition, to attack the first person who says something remotely insulting."

"Harry!" Ginny jumped up, hair in disarray, hurrying to compose herself. "How are you?"

"Hey Ginny. I'm great, thanks." Harry turned to look at Ellyn, who was also composing herself, if in a slightly less exuberant fashion. "So how do we start this? By the way, thanks for doing this at such short notice," he apologized.

Ellyn offered him the back of her hand, smiling slightly, and saying "My pleasure, Mr. Potter," obviously expecting him to kiss it. He reached out, took her hand and turned it vertical, and proceeded to give it a firm shake. It was all Ginny could do to not giggle at the disgusted look on Ellyn's face.

"What is it?" Harry asked, also noticing.

"You were supposed to kiss it, that's what! Can you not recognize the signs when a girl wants her hand kissed?" Ellyn exploded.

"Er..." Harry looked blank. "Well, the way you were holding it seemed a bit off...is that it?" he asked.

"Yes. See the way I'm holding it horizontal? That means I want you to kiss it. If I hold it vertical, like this, it means I want you to shake it." Ellyn demonstrated. "Most girls are going to want you to kiss their hands, seeing as you're an available bachelor."

"I'm not available!" Harry shouted, alarmed.

Immediately, Ginny's ears perked up. "What? You're dating? Who?" Ginny asked, trying and failing not to sound too eager.

"No one, but, Ellyn, I'm not looking for a girlfriend, or a fiancé, or a wife, so, won't they just leave me alone?" Harry pleaded.

"Hmmm, unclaimed, famous, handsome bachelor with no strings attached...No, I don't believe they will leave you alone." Ellyn answered. "Sorry to play the devil's advocate."

"But they have to...Wait, you think I'm handsome?" Harry asked.

"Is this the only thing that boys think about? Themselves?" Ellyn asked. "I never should have said handsome..."

"No, you shouldn't have," Ginny muttered under her breath protectively.

"Enough of this. We came here to teach you, Harry. Not to screw around. Let's get started for real." Ellyn ordered.

"Okay, okay," Harry raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry."

"Right, well, the first thing to do is table manners, since the banquet will precede the dance," Ellyn told him. "I trust you know the basic manners? Working from the outside in and all that? Know not to belch at the table?"

"You mean I can't challenge anyone to a belching contest?" Harry asked, feigning indignance.

"If you joke like that at the party, you will be so embarrassed you will die," Ellyn warned him. "The purebloods will comment on it all night until you wish to Merlin that you had died before you said it."

"That's brilliant," Harry said sarcastically, looking dejected.

"Get used to it," Ellyn told him, an_ 'Oh, grow up'_ look on her face. "This is how pureblood society works. They have long memories."

"That's brilliant, too," Harry said in much the same tone as before.

"_Anyways, _as a rule, you wait for all those who are older than you to sit down before you do," Ellyn instructed, deciding to ignore that last comment. "Then, when they are all seated, you pull out the chair for your dinner date—"

"Date?" Harry interjected. "I have to invite a _date!_ No way! Not a chance. I refuse. You remember what happened at the Yule Ball? I crashed and burned! I waited until the last instant I possibly could and—"

"Shut up!" Ellyn screeched over the torrent that had been getting louder and louder. "No, you do not have to invite a date. While you are socializing before the meal, the mother or father of a girl will introduce you to their daughter and suggest you have dinner with them. Then all you have to do is agree and lead her to dinner." She told him. "And I was getting to that part."

"Oh. Well, what do I do if I don't want to have dinner with her?" Harry asked, remarkably calmer.

"You do it anyways," Ellyn answered him. "The father will take it as an insult if you refuse. Never disrespect a lady in her father's presence. He will take it as a slight to his personal honor, and you will come out worse off, trust me." Harry gulped. "As I was saying, you hold the chair out for her before sitting yourself. Then, if she gets up at any point during the meal, stand to see her off. Then you may sit, but when she returns, get up, pull out her chair and help her sit again. Oh, yes, and make sure her belly is six inches from the table when you help her to scoot her chair in. Otherwise it would be difficult for her, seeing as it is rude to move her chair once she has been helped."

"Should I be taking notes?" Harry asked, overwhelmed.

"If you can't retain the knowledge, then yes." Ellyn answered him.

Harry sighed. "That's already almost a foot of notes and we haven't even begun the meal manners yet."

"Actually, that was all I was going to say on meal manners. I trust that you know the regular dinner manners. They are the same as the Muggles', I believe." Ellyn told him.

"Yeah, sure," Harry said.

"Excellent."

* * *

Hermione was sitting in the common room, curled up in an armchair by the fire, reading. Then she heard the shouting. "What on earth—"

"Yes, you have to use your napkin, Harry, what are you, a Neanderthal?" Ellyn's voice was easily recognizable from the distance.

"But why? I'm a very neat person by nature, I never use it! I just leave it by the side of my plate at dinner!" Harry's voice was equally loud and distinctive.

"That's beside the point! It's completely rude to not use it!" Ellyn was getting to the point where there would be no turning back.

"Why?" Harry asked her, voice thundering.

"Why?!" Hermione could almost hear Ellyn inflating. "Did I or did I not tell you that it is impossibly rude to not use every single thing that your hosts push in front of you? Not to mention that using a napkin is something that everyone on the planet does! Ugh!"

Ellyn stalked past Hermione, holding up her hand when Hermione started to speak. Seeing Harry approach, Hermione opened her mouth. "How did it—" was as far as she got before Harry walked past, too. "Oh, it was lovely, Hermione, I learned so much. Ellyn is a brilliant teacher..."

"Talking to yourself, Hermione?" asked Ginny, amused.

"No, I'm having a pleasant conversation with Harry that he didn't have time for," Hermione answered, "though you seem to be talking to me, so now I may as well have one with you. What happened?"

"Oh, it was bad," Ginny shuddered. "Harry was, at least, and Ellyn wasn't very patient with him. They don't make a very good pair."

"How did he treat _you_?" Hermione asked, immediately regretting it from the look on Ginny's face.

"He brushed me off, as usual," Ginny said, biting her lip and blinking back tears. "I just can't understand how he can't see how hard I am working to be nice to him."

"He always was a bit near-sighted," Hermione agreed. "But maybe that's just it. Maybe you shouldn't _try _so hard. Maybe you should just be yourself."

"My _self _tells me to run away and hide every time he comes within six feet of me," Ginny retorted angrily. "Do you think I should listen to it?"

"The feeling you get when he comes near you is not _you,_" Hermione told her, determinedly calm. "That's nervousness, and believe me, I know you're not a naturally nervous person."

"Well, I am around _him_!" Ginny intoned, louder than before.

"Around who?" asked Ron, walking up. Not waiting for an answer, he continued. "Hermione, what's up with Harry? He won't even speak to me. Not a word!"

"His _training session _didn't go as well as he had hoped," Ginny interrupted in a contempt filled voice. "He, as Ellyn so wisely put it, is a Neanderthal." She stalked in the direction of the girls dorms, presumably to join Ellyn. Ron and Hermione exchanged a shrug and began again with what they had been doing before the disturbance.

* * *

Dinner was a very one-sided conversation between Ellyn and Ginny. Ginny was still sulking, angrily glaring at Harry every once in a while, but he was too busy just as angrily stabbing his food down the table to notice. Ellyn seemed to have forgiven Harry's previous behavior, but Ginny's pride would take a while to mend.

Someone cleared their throat from behind Ellyn. Seeing Ginny's stony face, she imagined she could guess who it was. She turned around. "Hi, Harry," she said sweetly."Please accept my greetings. Is there something with which I can assist you?" she was using formal pureblood speak and he knew it.

"My ...greetings as well," Harry stuttered. "I wish to request that you begin my lessons on the proper behavior once more."

"I was unaware that anything had brought them to a close. We have, after all, only had one session," Ellyn slipped easily into character.

"I assumed we had stopped because of the...the..."Harry paused. "How do you want me to say fight in pureblood?"

"Our disagreement?" Ellyn asked, pretending she hadn't heard the last comment. "It was of no consequence. The lessons will resume."

"Great, thanks, Ellyn," said Harry dropping out of his badly shown pureblood manners. "See you, Ginny." He left, rejoining Hermione and Ron.

Ellyn turned and looked at Ginny, opening her mouth to say something, but she never got quite that far. She was too busy laughing. Ginny's face showed an exited elation and her mouth formed the words 'see you Ginny' over and over.

"He spoke to me!" she whispered, ignoring Ellyn. "I didn't prompt him to and he spoke to me!"

Ellyn stopped laughing long enough to inform Ginny, "You are lovesick, my dear. You're so lovesick, you've practically caught your death of it!"

"I don't care," was Ginny's dreamy answer, obviously not listening to Ellyn. "Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Har—"

"Ginny? Shut up."

"Sorry."

* * *

Ellyn and Harry make quite the explosive pair, wouldn't you say? Hehehe. They were never meant for each other anyways.

So, what do you all think? Awesome, good, mediocre, bad? Terrible?

Read and Review please—your encouragement is how I go on!

Love,

~Boston


	4. Dancing?

**Disclaimer: We all wish we owned Harry Potter. Unfortunately, none of us do. Unless of course, you happen to be J.K. Rowling, in which case you **_**do **_**own Harry Potter, not to mention the fact that I am **_**ridiculously **_**excited that you are reading my story.**

* * *

"Harry?" asked Ellyn's exasperated voice. "Are you going to ask me to dance or not?" Harry snapped out of his revere. "I just told you how to do it, so would you please exhibit your knowledge?"

"Dance?" he asked, frowning. "No, thanks. I don't dance."

"You don't dance," Ellyn said in total disbelief. "What on earth did you think you were doing saying 'yes' to go to a _ball?_ Are you mental?"

"No one said I'd have to dance," Harry said, beginning to look panicked. "That wasn't in the job description! That's not what I signed up for!"

"Actually, Harry, I think you'll find that that is what you signed up for," Ellyn told him calmly, enjoying his rising panic. "Dancing would be what constitutes a ball."

"No, no, it's just a party. I don't have to dance if I don't want to," Harry said insistently. "And I don't want to, so I won't."

"You are dead," Ellyn told him. "If you don't dance then you are dead. All the purebloods will decide 'Oh, he thinks he's too good for us—let's go kill him.' And they will."

"I think you're being a little extreme," Harry told her, determined to remain blind.

"She's not, actually," Hermione said, speaking up for the first time. She held out the book she was reading. She read aloud, "The pureblood society can take almost anything that is done as an insult to their personal honor. Purebloods are known for reacting savagely, and sometimes fatally, in such situations."

Silence reigned for a moment.

The Harry said, "How do I ask those girls to dance again?" Ellyn sighed and proceeded to explain, _again,_ what was necessary when asking a lady to dance. This time, Harry paid close attention, not interrupting her at all. Ellyn found this incredibly gratifying.

As soon as she was done talking, Harry stood up. He smiled handsomely, then asked her, "My lady, may I have the pleasure of this dance?" he held out his hand welcomingly for her to take.

Ellyn smiled too, and delicately accepted his hand. "It would be my pleasure, good sir," she responded, looking at him flirtatiously through her lashes. Harry looked stunned for a moment, Hermione holding back giggles at the look on his face. Ellyn stood and began to walk toward the Room's dance floor. Harry didn't move.

"Are you coming?" she asked, hand still in his. She gave a slight tug on it.

"Wait, you actually want me to dance?" Harry asked. "I can't."

"Why not?" Ellyn asked, façade of flirtatiousness gone in an instant of annoyance. "Is there a problem with dancing, Mr. I Said Yes to Go to a Ball?"

"Yes," Harry said. "I can't dance." It was Ellyn's turn to be stunned. She didn't respond for a moment. Then, heavily, she sat down in the chair that the Room thoughtfully provided as she sat.

"What have I gotten myself into?" she moaned. She looked up. "You're joking, right? No? But you danced at the Yule Ball in your fourth year..."

"I just let Parvati lead," Harry told her. "And I only danced one dance. And I failed at it. And I didn't have any idea what I was doing. And—"

"Shut up, Harry," Hermione interjected. "She gets the point." Ellyn certainly did get the point. She had her head in her hands again, muttering something to herself. Then, suddenly, she stood up.

"Right, I have two weeks to teach you how to dance properly," she said. "I hope, for your own sake, that you are a fast learner." Harry gulped.

* * *

"The first thing you have to do is take my hand," Ellyn told Harry, the despair on her face turning to determination.

"Easy enough," Harry said, grabbing it. Ellyn sighed and rearranged his grip on it, loosening his hand a bit as well.

"Then you put your other hand on my right shoulder blade," she instructed, using her hand to guide his to the proper position. Harry resisted her.

"I don't want to do that," he said warningly.

"I wasn't asking," Ellyn informed him. "I don't care if you think I have girl germs or whatever. However, if you do, then you are even more immature than I originally thought."

Harry threw up the hand that Ellyn wasn't holding in a gesture of surrender before applying it to its proper place at her shoulder blade. "Now what?" he asked simply.

"Now we dance," Ellyn told him grimly. "Music please?" she asked. Obligingly, the room began to play a slow waltz. "_One, _two three, _one, _two, three..." Ellyn began counting aloud and deliberately taking the steps the dance required.

Harry followed a half a second behind, treading on her toes as he did so. Ellyn winced a bit each time but didn't comment. She hoped sincerely that he'd learn fast. Her feet might get pretty swollen.

As soon as the music wound to a close, Ellyn hobbled over to where Hermione was sitting and watching. She sank heavily into the chair next to Hermione and grabbed the ice that appeared next to her gratefully. Harry was following her, apologizing profusely.

"Shut up, Harry," Ellyn told him, wincing as she pulled off her dancing slippers, revealing red and already slightly swollen toes.

"Ellyn, I'm so sorry," Harry said again. "I did warn you...I really stink at dancing."

"It'll be fine, Harry, there's always one at these balls that can't seem to be graceful enough to stay away from my feet. I've dealt with this before."

"How long will I take before you can dance again?" asked Hermione worriedly, but Ellyn didn't get a chance to answer because Ginny chose that moment to walk in.

"You guys missed dinner, I brought some food up and—" Ginny paused. "Something the matter? What happened to your feet, Ellyn?" she asked, coming closer.

"Harry happened to my feet," Ellyn answered.

"Dancing?" Ginny answered. "Yeah, Ron said he was never a good dancer. He always—"

"Hello?" Harry interjected. "I'm right here?"

"Oh, hi Harry," Ginny answered. "Sorry." Her blush was kept to a bare minimum and she had yet to start babbling. Ellyn was extremely proud.

"So," Harry said, turning to Ellyn. "When do we start again?"

"When my poor feet recover," Ellyn answered irritably.

"Sorry."

"I'll be fine."

"Good."

Silence ensued for a moment.

"Oh, all right, let's get started," Ellyn said resignedly.

* * *

The walk back to the common room was slow and very, very quiet. Ellyn was limping considerably, though Ginny and Hermione speculated in whispers that she was over-dramatizing it. She looked as though she visibly held herself back from ranting to Harry the whole way back. Harry's face held a properly apologetic expression.

After a while, Harry could bear it no longer. "I _am _really sorry, you know, Ellyn," he spoke up. "I did tell you I was horrible..."

"I know."

"Look, I'm trying to apologize here," Harry told her firmly. "You can't just ignore me."

"And I am trying, in my own way, to tell you that I forgive you."

"Doing a pretty rotten job of it," Harry informed her. "Most people just say 'it's okay,' and move on."

"Ah, but it isn't in Ellyn's nature to be so forwardly friendly," Ginny was working hard to keep her face straight. "It would ruin her reputation."

"Right, well, while Hermione's writing that book about odd things girls do, you can write a supplementary one just about interpreting odd things Ellyn does," Harry told Ginny. She blushed.

"Okay," she said, a little softer than her earlier bantering tone.

Hermione stepped in. "How long ago was it we had that conversation? A year? Two?"

"I dunno."

"And yet you still find it impossible to remember a lesson from one day to the next," Hermione marveled. "I don't know how you do it."

Harry preened. "It's an art."

"I bet it is," Ellyn put in half-sourly. Like Hermione, she was trying to cover up Ginny's sudden departure from the conversation.

Ginny recovered quickly. She mimed holding a quill to write on her hand. "Note to self: Ellyn's use of false anger and annoyance has many uses. May require a full chapter."

Harry and Hermione laughed.

"Very amusing," Ellyn said darkly.

Ginny returned to her hand. "Sarcasm may require several chapters of interpretation."

Ellyn glowered.

* * *

Ellyn and Ginny reached the Room of Requirement the next afternoon to find themselves arriving on a rather charming tableau. Harry was already there. He had started up the music by himself and was trying to dance partnerless.

"ONE, two three, ONE, two, three," he said to himself as he moved. Ellyn giggled a bit. He was off the beat of the music.

After a moment she decided to step in. "_One, _two, three, _one, _two three," she interjected firmly. Harry, startled, looked over to her and made to stop. Ellyn gestured him on. He fell easier into the new beat than she'd expected. When the song wound to a close, she walked over to him.

"How long were you two here?" Harry asked, spotting Ginny as well.

"Only a few minutes," Ginny answered. "You look much better than yesterday, Harry," she told him before ducking her head a bit, trying to hide her blush.

"Thanks," Harry said, not noticing.

"Are you ready to try it for real?" Ellyn asked him.

Harry looked a bit nervous. "If you are. I hope your feet don't hurt too badly from yesterday."

"Hermione made me some murtlap essence. It really helped, so I'm set to go," Ellyn assured him. "Don't try to use me as an excuse not to dance."

Harry nodded, then briskly offered her his hand. She took it delicately, waiting for him to assume the correct position. He did.

"Music, please," Ellyn said in the general direction of the ceiling. The Room began to play another waltz. Ellyn waited for Harry to start leading.

"Er, are we going to start?" Harry asked her nervously.

"You tell me, you're the leader."

"Oh," Harry realized before stepping into the dance. "ONE, two, three, ONE, two, three," he muttered to himself.

"You won't do that at the ball, will you?" Ellyn asked appraisingly.

"What?"

"Count."

"What? Oh—no, I won't."

"Good."

"This is improvement, right? I can hold a conversation while dancing without stepping on your—oh! Sorry!"

Ellyn winced. "Speak of the devil. I—it's okay."

"Does that really pain you so much to say?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"Focus on dancing, Harry."

"Right."

When the song pulled to a close, Ellyn stepped back and curtsied gracefully. Harry, belatedly, bowed awkwardly. Ginny burst into applause.

"Come on, Ginny, it wasn't that great," Harry told her, feeling the heat rise to his face.

"It was _much _better than yesterday," Ellyn disagreed. "How long were you in here practicing?" she wanted to know.

"Well, I came up during break, and again right after class," Harry answered. "Ron thinks I'm a nutter. For saying 'yes' and for wanting to learn how to dance. I mean, _having _to learn how to dance."

"It's okay to want to learn how to dance, Harry," Ginny said kindly. Harry glanced away, blushing even harder.

Ellyn placed a hand over her mouth, trying desperately to stop herself from laughing at her best friend and her best friend's crush. It would be far too tactless at such a moment.

Harry was silent for a moment. Then, "Thanks, Ginny," he said quietly. "I _do _want to learn how to dance."

"Well, then," Ellyn interrupted cheerily. "Let's get going, shall we?" She ignored Ginny's resentful glance.

Harry continued to improve on the waltz. However, the foxtrot...

"For the last time, Harry," Ellyn explained exaggeratedly. "It's different from the waltz. Slow, quick, quick, slow," she instructed, moving his body rather forcefully.

"I'm sorry!" Harry cried, stepping back and gripping his hair. "I'm not any good at this! Why do I even bother?!?"

He stomped away, sitting in the lounge area and putting his head in his hands.

Ellyn was looking determined and angry. Ginny noticed this as Ellyn walked toward Harry, a rather frightening look on her face.

She ran to intercept her. "Let me handle this," she muttered, pushing Ellyn back.

"Can you?" the aggravated girl muttered.

Ginny paused. "And what, pray, do you mean by that?"

"You'll only fall apart," Ellyn answered cruelly. "That's all you ever do."

Ginny's warm brown eyes turned to ice in a moment. "Watch me," she said in a tone to match her eyes. She turned and stalked toward Harry, fiery red hair swinging behind her back.

Ellyn watched as her walk softened as she approached the oblivious boy. Why did she want her best friend to fail so badly?

Ginny approached Harry gently. She sat next to him. She didn't say anything.

After a while, he spoke. "I was a fool, wasn't I," he said resignedly.

"For what?" Ginny asked calmly. "For wanting to learn how to dance, or for storming off?"

"Either. Both."

"They have different answers."

"No, they don't."

"How do you figure?" Ginny asked, chuckling softly. "Learning how to dance, and stopping learning how to dance. They're opposites."

"You didn't leave me the option I wanted. Not having accepted that stupid letter at all!" His voice rose.

Ginny timidly put her hand on his arm. "You can't. You know that as well as I do. You can't erase the past. You can only move forward." Then, blushing at this moment of philosophical enlightenment, Ginny stood and swept out of the Room of Requirement with a nasty look at Ellyn.

Harry stood slowly. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ellyn." He left, too.

Ellyn put her head in her hands. Now she'd done it: lost her best friend and her student in less than a half an hour.

Even though it sounded like her student was coming back.

She couldn't believe she'd said those things to Ginny. She was supposed to be the one that didn't lose her temper. Get exasperated and sarcastic, yes. Losing her temper? Never.

And it _would_ be Ginny she took it out on.

* * *

By the time Ellyn reached the dormitory, Ginny's curtains were pulled shut. Ellyn hadn't seen her at dinner, either. She stood outside them for a moment, trying to rack up the courage to pull them back to reveal, she was sure, a fuming redhead.

She turned away.

As she dressed in her white, silk nightdress that hugged her petite figure comfortably, she considered her options.

One of the other girls extinguished the main lights. Ellyn stared at the lamp by her bed, willing herself to turn it off. She didn't. She drew the curtains and brought the lamp inside. It cast a friendly glow on the deep red cloth, but it didn't seem friendly to Ellyn. Finally, she gave in.

Standing, she reached for Ginny's curtains once more. She grabbed the red fabric and pulled them silently back a little. Through the crack she could see a huddled black form at the head of the bed. Ginny was still dressed in her robes. Her head was on her up-drawn knees, red hair fanning over them.

"Ginny?" Ellyn whispered timidly.

"Go away," answered Ginny's muffled voice. She hadn't even looked up.

"No."

"What do you want, Windsor?" Ginny demanded, raising her head to glare at Ellyn.

"Ouch," Ellyn muttered, pretending not to be hurt. "Last name treatment. I must have been bad."

"...You were," Ginny answered after a moment.

"Oh, come on, Gin," Ellyn chided. "It wasn't that bad."

"Oh, come on, Windsor," Ginny said in much the same tones. "You practically called me an unreliable blubberer! Get thinking!"

Ellyn sat down on the edge of the bed. "And I shouldn't have. I'm sorry," she said.

"Now sound like you mean it."

"Fine," Ellyn said, taking a moment to compose herself. "I am extremely sorry for causing a situation that could have been handled better. I hope that you will accept these sincere apologies and give me an opportunity to prove that our relationship can go on—"

"Stop."

"What?"

"Don't go all pureblood on me," Ginny scolded. The spiteful tone was gone from her voice. It had reverted to teasing.

"Fine," Ellyn fake-huffed.

Ginny rolled out of the bed and went to her trunk. She pulled out her hideous old pink night-dress that reached only to her knees and began to change by the light of Ellyn's lamp.

Ellyn had offered to replace it a thousand times, but Ginny was too prideful.

Ginny climbed back into bed. Ellyn was seated cross-legged at the foot of it, wrapped in the worn, old blanket Mrs. Weasley had knitted for Ginny.

As soon as Ginny pulled the curtains, Ellyn looked at Ginny. "I really am sorry, you know, Ginny."

Ginny smiled. "I know."

There was an awkward pause for a moment.

Ellyn broke it. "It seemed to go well."

"What?"

"Your talk with Harry," Ellyn clarified.

"You noticed over the dragon fire you were breathing?" Ginny giggled.

"Why, you—"

"Shut up you two! We're trying to sleep, here!"called an annoyed voice from the other side of the room.

Ellyn and Ginny fell into fits of silent giggles. They didn't even know what they were laughing about.

They settled into a comfortable silence. Ginny was the first to fall asleep. Ellyn watched her for a while, Ginny's rather formidable face looking peaceful and angelic in sleep.

It took knocking over the lamp in one of her bouts of exhaustion to decide that she really needed to sleep.

* * *

First off, let me apologize for the wait. I went into this intending to update weekly at least—and here I am, three weeks gone from my last update. Oops.

Nevertheless, here it is!

So, how would you like to light up my face like Christmas came early? Well, you know what to do! Review!

In all honesty, though, I value your input a lot. I genuinely want to know what you think. I want to know what I can do better, what I can fix, and what I did right.

Also, I realized I had anonymous reviews disabled, so I fixed it. I don't really care if you don't tell me who you are. I realize many of you don't have accounts, and that's fine.

Thanks a ton!

~Boston


	5. There's No Place Like Home

**I am not J.K. Rowling. Therefore I do not own Harry Potter. Simple as that.**

* * *

"I can't do this, Harry," complained a familiar voice as Ellyn and Ginny approached the Room of Requirement the next day. "You've been trying to teach me for an hour! Why don't you just give up?"

"Because, Hermione," Harry began, "I need to learn this. And I can't do it without a partner. Ron, surprisingly, didn't care to help. That left you."

Ellyn, at the door leaned over to Ginny. "My sarcasm is rubbing off on him. I'm so proud." She wiped away an imaginary tear.

Then she walked into the room. "Hermione, I relieve you of your duties," she said formally.

"Thank goodness. I don't know how many times I tripped over my own feet. And Harry tripped over them," Hermione scowled. "Thank Merlin I'm not pureblood."

"You would have known how to dance from a young age if you had been," Ellyn reminded her.

"Well," Hermione answered. "I don't. So if you please, I'm going to sit down, before I _fall_ down."

"I'll join you," Ginny said, slipping her arm beneath Hermione's shoulders to support the other girl's quivering legs.

"Maybe teaching Hermione will have helped you learn the foxtrot," Ellyn suggested. "Let's give it a whirl."

They took the floor. Graciously, the Room began to play a brisk foxtrot. Harry was still a bit clumsy, but Ellyn was satisfied with the level of improvement.

"All right," she said at the end. "I find that acceptable. Let's move on, shall we?"

Harry groaned.

"All right," Ellyn said at the end of one session the next week. "I'm leaving the day after tomorrow, so tomorrow will be the last day of our working together."

"Where are you going?" Harry asked her, concerned.

Ellyn sighed, looking determinedly patient. "I'm the hostess' daughter, Harry." She reminded him. "I have to '_do my duty_.' I have to ready the hall, check the menu, go to endless dress fitting after endless dress fitting..."

"Okay, okay," Harry told her, raising his hands in surrender. "I don't want to know."

"Good."

"So what are we doing tomorrow, then?" Harry wanted to know.

"You need dress robes."

"I have them."

Ellyn's brow furrowed. She swept her blonde hair back and asked, "The ones from your fourth year? Don't you think you've grown a bit since then?"

Harry glanced down at himself. "Right. New robes it is."

"Good," Ellyn told him. "Tomorrow we'll meet at the same time at the front doors. We'll head down to Hogsmeade together."

"Brilliant."

"Don't be so sarcastic, Harry."

"Hypocrite."

Ellyn hit him.

* * *

"These are too small," Harry said, adding the robes to a growing pile of rejects.

Ellyn was exasperated. "They're supposed to be snug, Harry. It's more flattering that way."

"Well, I don't want those pureblood girls looking at me. They're horrible," Harry moaned.

"Should I be insulted?" Ellyn questioned him viciously.

"No!" Harry shouted.

"Is everything all right in here?" asked a clerk, popping her head in.

"Lovely, thank you," Ellyn responded. "Mr. Potter just had a rather strong reaction to a color I suggested."

"What color?" asked the clerk, coming in.

"Green," Ellyn told her, bringing up an early debate the two had experienced. "Don't you think it would bring out his eyes?"

"Yes, very much so," the clerk agreed.

"Look," Harry interjected. "I wore green to the Yule Ball and I was the only one who wasn't a Slytherin wearing them. I don't want to look like a Slytherin."

"Oh, come on," Ellyn scoffed. "You're _Harry Potter. _Everyone knows you're not a Slytherin!"

The clerk backed hesitantly out of the dressing room.

"Ellyn!" called Ginny's voice from the other dressing room. "Come tell me what you think of this one!"

Ellyn smiled politely at Harry. "Excuse me. Get yourself some more to try on, if you like."

Ellyn entered the other dressing room to help Ginny, who had come along to find something for her to wear on Christmas Eve.

"_What _are you _wearing?_" Ellyn gasped as she entered.

Ginny was wearing a hideous, baggy, orange-ish vomit colored dress. A huge pink bow hung over her chest. There were several hoops in the skirt. The shoes matched the dress: they were clunky and adorned with a frilly pink bow.

Ginny hung her head. "It was the best I could find..."

"Are you mental? This is the most prestigious dress shop in Hogsmeade!" Ellyn told her. "Where did you find that, the scrap bin?"

"No—the clearance rack." Ginny answered in a small voice.

"Oh," Ellyn realized. She stepped forward and pulled the other girl into a hug. "Don't worry about the price, Ginny. I'll get it for you."

"I can't let you—"

"Stop," Ellyn interrupted. "Don't even look at the price tags. Go out there and find the one that you like. Okay? Don't answer that. Just do it."

And, with that, Ellyn swept out of Ginny's dressing room and back into Harry's.

* * *

"Bye, Gin," Ellyn said the next day, bags packed and sitting beside her. "I'll see you on the twenty-fourth."

"Bye, Ellyn," Ginny responded, giving her a hug before turning to head to dinner.

Ellyn smiled. "See you, Harry," she called as he walked toward the Great Hall as well.

"Yeah, sure, Ellyn," he called back. He returned to the heated discussion he was having with Hermione and Ron, both of whom would be heading home the following day on the train.

"Miss Windsor?" asked her timid-looking escort. "Lady Windsor commands we be home by suppertime. We should be going so you can change out of your school things before you eat."

"Yes," Ellyn sighed.

"Is something the matter, Miss Windsor?"

"No," Ellyn told him. "I only wish you'd call me Ellyn."

"But...your mother wouldn't hear of it!"

"Precisely, she wouldn't. _I _won't tell," Ellyn assured him.

"I'm sorry, miss."

"Very well then, let us go."

"Very good, miss."

Ellyn sighed.

* * *

"Ellyn, darling," Helena Windsor greeted her daughter.

"Hello, Mother," Ellyn responded, taking her seat elegantly at the huge mahogany dinner table in the Great Hall of Windsor Manor. "I hope you are well?"

"Yes, very well, thank you, daughter," Helena nodded graciously to her daughter. "I hope your studies go well."

"Yes, Mother," Ellyn responded, nodding to the servant as her plate was set in front of her. A tiny salad adorned it. "Won't Father be joining us?"

"No, daughter, he works still at this hour," Ellyn's mother reminded her. "I apologize for the amount of food, or lack thereof, but you must keep your figure for the ball. I trust you have been fasting at school as well?"

"Yes, Mother," Ellyn said in reply, doing her best not to sound sullen.

"You must be tired, so I shall let that tone slip this one time. Get to bed," Helena ordered.

"Now, Mother?"

"You must be too tired to eat," Helena said with a smile that did not reach her eyes.

"Yes, Mother."

By no means was it the first time Ellyn had been sent to bed without dinner, so, as was the norm, she passed a few Knuts to the footman who let her out. He would bring her dinner.

"Have a good night, Ellyn. You shall assume your duties tomorrow." Helena called.

"Yes, Mother," Ellyn said before she left. "Sleep well."

* * *

"This dress will be lovely when it is finished, miss," said the dressmaker once again as she pinned and measured magically.

"Ellyn," Ellyn corrected for the thousandth time that morning. "And I'm sure it will be. Anything you make, Agnes, will be gorgeous."

"Thank you, miss. You do me a great honor with such high praise."

Ellyn sighed.

"Is something wrong, miss?"

"No, Agnes. Keep on."

"If you are tired, miss—"

"No, no. Keep on."

Silence.

"Ellyn? Are you in—" Helena poked her head in the door. "Ah, there you are. I've been looking for you all morning! Oh, my, what a lovely selection. You didn't tell me you'd already chosen a gown, dear."

"You chose it for me, Mother."

"Oh, of course. How could I have forgotten?"

"You've been busy, Mother."

"Yes, dear," Helena said with a smile. "How kind of you to think of me. I _have _been busy, but now that you are here, you can take some of my load."

"Yes, Mother," Ellyn said respectfully, fuming inside.

"I'll send a house-elf to help you dress," Helena said, making to leave. "I require you in the Great Hall with the decorator. I've already given him very specific instructions, so all you have to do is supervise. But beware, dear—he's rather vulgar." She swept out of the room, tall, regal form disappearing behind the door.

"I like him already," Ellyn muttered.

* * *

"You must be that lady's daughter," the man said. He _was _rather vulgar looking, in overalls and a scraggly beard, but he seemed nice enough.

"I'm Ellyn," she informed him.

"Nice to meet you, Ellyn," the man said. Ellyn sighed in relief. "So, what exactly are you doing here? Making sure I don't steal anything while I work?"

"Pretty much," she joked, half-serious.

"Well, I assure you that I wouldn't steal from a pretty little blonde thing like you," the man winked.

Ellyn laughed. It had been a long time since a man had flirted with her so easily.

"Your mum, on the other hand..."

"My mother is also blonde. In fact, we are often told that we look much alike," Ellyn told him, smiling.

"But she is not nearly so pretty as you, Ellyn—"

"How dare you address my daughter by her first name? And with such...vulgarity! How dare you?"

"Hello, Mother," Ellyn whispered. "Wonderful timing."

"Your work here is at an end. I will have the house-elves finish. And don't even think about asking me for pay!" Helena's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Yes, ma'am." The man tipped his hat and left, winking at Ellyn before he closed the door.

"You're welcome, dear," Helena said. "Now could you please..."

* * *

Ellyn fell into bed, utterly exhausted.

"Miss Ellyn?"

"What?" Ellyn asked into her pillow.

"Doesn't miss think she should change into her night things before miss goes to sleep?"

"No," Ellyn muttered gruffly.

"Mistress told Sergi to take care of Miss Ellyn. Sergi thinks Miss Ellyn should change."

Ellyn groaned and rolled out of her extremely welcoming bed.

"Sergi has Miss Ellyn's nightdress right here."

"Thank you, Sergi," Ellyn said, yawning.

The little elf blushed, turning her face away. "It is nothing, Miss Ellyn."

For some reason, it didn't bother Ellyn as much when Sergi and the other elves used her title. It was how they showed they liked a master or mistress, when they used their names behind their title. It was evident that Sergi did not like Ellyn's mother.

Ellyn finished dressing and flopped on to the bed.

"Sergi has some hot cocoa for Miss Ellyn," Sergi said softly, offering the steaming cup.

"You are a life-saver," Ellyn said gratefully, taking a long draught. "I may just keep you around."

Sergi blushed. "I is always around, Miss Ellyn."

Ellyn smiled. "Good night, Sergi..."

"Good night, Miss Ellyn," Sergi said softly, turning out the light, pitching the sleeping girl's face into darkness.

* * *

And we draw ever closer to the climax! Who's excited?

I had a few questions about how this story fit in with the books. It fits in Harry's sixth year, as you can tell from Snape's position and a few more subtle hints in earlier chapters. Yes, everything is still going on with Harry, it's just a bit more behind the scenes.

My main focus in this fanfiction is to bring to life the pureblood aspect of the story: the way they act has always fascinated me, but the more I think about it, the more I realize how horrible it must be sometimes. That's what this chapter was all about.

So tell me what you think or want to know! I'll get back to you as soon as I can!

~Boston


	6. The Snake Pit

**Anything you recognize from the books or the movies, yup. That's not mine. It's J.K Rowling's.**

* * *

The Great Hall was filled with glimmering lights and shimmering ice sculptures. Silver tinsel entwined with green ivy ran around the arched ceiling.

Candles made of ice danced in the air, seemingly weightless. Deep mahogany tables covered in brilliant white tablecloths held elegant silver dishes.

At the top of a sweeping staircase stood a pair of huge double doors and two footmen, ready to announce the arrival of some of the more prominent guests.

Ellyn stood second to last in that line.

She wore a dress made of a dark blue satin. The bodice hugged her curves tightly. Her shoulders were bare, but her sleeves came to her hands, covering the top of her hand slightly in a V-shape.

The skirts poured like a waterfall from the waistline, the elegant ruffles accenting her slim torso. Diamonds were woven into the bodice, and the skirts were dusted with matching threads.

A dainty diamond and silver necklace adorned her slim neck, and her golden hair was curled on top of her head, pinned with tiny diamond clips that glistened softly.

"Miss Ellyn Victoria Windsor!" announced the footman.

Elegantly, Ellyn stepped through the doors. She descended the steps, taking her time. To trip would be mortifying, with all eyes on her.

With relief, she gently placed her hand atop the first arm offered her at the bottom. She glanced up at whoever it was.

"Hey, Windsor," muttered Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy," Ellyn greeted curtly. "What reason could you possibly have for wanting to meet me at the stairs?"

"My father wants me to have dinner with you," Malfoy hissed.

Ellyn smirked. "I take it you're not happy."

"You've been foisted on me at this ball every year since I turned ten," Malfoy answered. "I'm getting rather sick of it. Of you, rather."

"I'm sure your father also told you to be charming?" Ellyn wanted to know. "You're not doing a very good job of it."

"_That _he can't enforce."

"True—shhh. My mother and father are about to be announced," Ellyn chided.

"Lady Helena Windsor, escorted by Lord Everett Windsor," the footman called.

The doors opened to reveal the couple.

Helena wore a blood-red dress that made her look pale. It was elegant enough, but it was overdone. There was black lace everywhere. Her hair was held up by a thick net of rubies. The bodice had been pulled tight over a body that lacked curve, which had not been a wise decision. The skirt was huge: Ellyn was sure that it would swamp her.

Everett wore a huge black dress robe with red accents.

"Awwww, they coordinated," whispered Ellyn sarcastically to Malfoy.

"So did we," Malfoy pointed out.

Ellyn turned to really look at him for the first time. He wore dark blue robes that identically matched her shade. Silver was the accent color.

"Who told you?" she demanded, infuriated.

"Your mum told my father."

"Ohhhhhhh," Ellyn fumed. "She'll hear about this..."

"Really?" Malfoy asked lazily.

"Shut up, Malfoy."

_Ding! _

Lady Windsor had called the attention of her guests by tapping her dinner knife on her champagne glass.

"Dinner shall be served in fifteen minutes," she called. "If you and your dinner date will make your way over before that time, please."

Lucius Malfoy began to amble over to Ellyn and Draco.

Quickly, Ellyn grabbed Draco's arm. "Let's go," she said. "I've, er, seen someone I know—over there."

She began to drag him away.

"Okay," he said, following her.

Ellyn looked around wildly for someone it wouldn't seem odd to strike up a conversation with. With a sigh, she recognized Harry in his black and gold robes.

"Malfoy!" Harry said in disgust as soon as they drew close. "What are _you _doing here?"

"My family, Potter, is one of the most prestigious pure families left," Malfoy explained lazily. "Thus, I have the, erm, _honor, _of escorting Miss Windsor, here, to dinner."

"I never agreed to have dinner with you!" Ellyn exclaimed, outraged.

Malfoy grinned. "It is expected of us," he told her.

"You don't have to have dinner with him, Ellyn," Harry said angrily. "I'll have dinner with you."

"Nonsense," Malfoy scoffed. "You, have dinner with the hostess' daughter? Hardly."

"He's right, Harry," Ellyn said sadly. "It wouldn't be appropriate."

"Mr. Potter!" exclaimed a huge woman. She approached, dragging her rather ugly daughter behind her. "I've been trying to get up the courage to talk to you all night," she said when she got closer. "My Pricilla has been hoping to dine with you this evening."

"That sounds like a lovely idea," Harry answered cordially.

The girl simpered. She offered her hand.

Harry took it and kissed it gently. "It would be my pleasure to dine with you tonight, Miss...?"

"Buchanon," the girl supplied.

Harry offered her his arm. As he led her toward the tables, he turned to give Ellyn a look of dismay.

Ellyn gave him a thumbs up, then turned to Malfoy.

"Shall we go, then?" she asked, reverting back to pureblood-speak and giving herself a lofty tone.

"We shall, my lady," Malfoy responded in a like tone.

* * *

Ellyn followed the conversation in a stupor. She said what was expected of her and laughed when she ought. She listened, appearing attentive, to the stories her father told about hunting. They were the same every year—he only changed the location of his marvelous adventures.

Ellyn's mother chatted cordially with some of the ladies at their table, but it wasn't long until she decided to run Draco through the cross-fire.

"So, Mr. Malfoy," she began, smiling. "How is Hogwarts going for you this year?"

Ellyn giggled. Malfoy had just taken a huge bite of steak. He chewed hastily.

After what seemed like forever, he responded, "Lovely, thank you."

Ellyn leaned over to him. "Not much for the wait," she whispered. Draco glared at her.

"Wonderful! Have you put any thought into what career you'd like to pursue once you've left school?"

Draco nodded comfortably. "I am considering going to university to get my Potions Masters degree, and then work for the Ministry as a Potioneer," he told her. "Potions have always interested me."

"How exciting," Helena said. "I had no idea you were so interested in Potions. Did you know, Ellyn, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ellyn responded. "I have a number of acquaintances in Mr. Malfoy's year. They tell me he is wonderful with potions."

"How lovely," Helena said, obviously growing disinterested. "Are you enjoying your meal?"

"Yes, it is delicious, ma'am," Malfoy answered smoothly, accepting the change in subject easily. "My compliments to your chef."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy; I shall let him know you thought of him. I'm sure he'll be delighted," Helena said.

Ellyn felt her eyes glaze over a bit. She stared blankly at the clock, willing the hour hand to hit the eight.

Time ticked slowly by...

* * *

_Ding!_

Ellyn pulled herself out of her stupor to listen to her mother speak.

"I hope you all experienced delicious and enjoyable meals," Helena said to the room at large.

There was a smattering of polite applause.

Helena smiled warmly and continued, "May I hope you all brought your dancing slippers, for we have the best musicians in all of England here tonight for your pleasure. Let the dance begin!"

At this, the musicians struck up a beautiful waltz.

Everett rose and offered his hand to his wife, whispering something to her. She accepted and they swept out onto the floor.

Ellyn steeled herself for what she knew would be next. The couple on the floor began to dance smoothly.

Draco rose. All eyes turned to him.

Loudly, he said cordially, "May I have the honor of the first dance, my lady?"

Inwardly, Ellyn fumed. In public, though, she simply smiled gaily and accepted his hand. "It would be my pleasure, Mr. Malfoy," she responded.

Her skirts rustled and swished as he led her from the dinner platform to the dance floor.

* * *

Harry listened to Pricilla make subtle hint after subtle hint that she wanted to dance.

All he wanted was to escape her while he still could. She was determined, and if he wasn't careful, he'd end up engaged by the end of the night.

Mentally, he reminded himself to thank Ellyn profusely for teaching him all the different ways to recognize danger signs and foist them off diplomatically.

Pricilla chose that moment to suggest dancing again. Bored, Harry heaved himself up. "Would you care to dance?" he asked her hastily.

Pricilla smiled and pushed her pudgy body off the chair with the help of Harry's hand. "I'd wove it," she said.

Harry wondered how a girl of sixteen couldn't pronounce her 'L's yet. He sighed.

* * *

As Ellyn whirled and spun at the hands of Malfoy, she found herself searching the crowds for Ginny. The fiery red hair ought to be easy to pick out, but Ellyn couldn't see her anywhere.

When the song wound to a close, Ellyn curtsied deeply and allowed Malfoy to lead her off the floor. She then excused herself to the powder room. Walking with purpose so as not to get waylaid by one of the men who desperately wanted to dance with her, Ellyn crossed the room and slipped through the doors.

Silence.

Ellyn went along the way to the restroom that was set aside for guests, peeping through the occasional door in hopes of finding Ginny.

She opened the door to the powder room and knew immediately she had the right place. Soft snuffles were coming from one of the stalls.

"Ginny?"

"Go away."

That confirmed it. "No."

"Ellyn, I don't want to see you right now."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll make me feel better and then I'll have to go down there."

"That's a bad thing?"

"Yes!"

"I'm afraid I don't understand your logic," Ellyn informed her. "Therefore, I am coming in. I hope you're decent."

"Define 'decent'."

"Wearing clothes that cover everything you don't want me to see."

"Fine."

Ellyn pulled her wand from the secret sheath encased in the ruffles of her skirts. "Alohamora," she said. The door clicked open.

Ginny sat, fully clothed, on the covered toilet seat.

"So, are you going to tell me what's wrong, or am I going to have to coax it out of you?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?" Ginny snapped.

"Well, for starters, you're hiding in a bathroom. Secondly, you've been crying...Need any more? I'm sure I can come up with something," Ellyn said. She took Ginny's hand and led her to the couch by the door.

"I was ridiculous to think I ought to come to this thing. I can't do it!"

"Yes, you can. What are you talking about?" Ellyn asked.

"I just...I just can't."

"Oh," Ellyn said, widening her eyes and nodding. "I get it now."

"Way to be sarcastic, El," Ginny responded.

Ellyn smiled and said, "You know me."

"Yes," Ginny sighed. "Unfortunately I do."

"Well, you can joke. That's a good sign."

"Who said I was joking?"

"You're smiling."

"Right. Need to work on that."

"You think?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay."

Silence.

Ellyn broke it. "So, are you coming back down now?"

"Back? I chickened out before I even got there."

"You didn't eat?"

"Nope."

Ellyn snapped her fingers smartly. There was a pop, and then a small house-elf appeared.

"Miss Ellyn called Sergi?"

"Yes," Ellyn responded. "Miss Weasley was not feeling well during dinner. She would like it if you could bring her something, please."

"Yes, Miss Ellyn." A pop, and Sergi disappeared.

Ellyn grabbed a washcloth from a cupboard and began to gently wipe the tear streaks from Ginny's face.

"I'm a coward, aren't I?"

Ellyn was silent for a moment.

"Well?" Ginny prompted.

Ellyn put the cloth down. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Um...I thought so, but now I'm not so sure."

Silence.

"All right, answer."

"Yes," Ellyn said, looking her straight in the eye. "You were."

"Why?"

"Why were you a coward? Only you can answer that," Ellyn reminded her.

"You know what I meant."

"Do I?"

Ginny look confused.

"He's just a boy, Gin. He doesn't bite. Hell, you put up with me! Harry's a lot sweeter than I am," Ellyn said. "If you'd just go down there, I'm sure he'd jump for a chance to get away from Pricilla Buchanon." With a wave of her wand, Ellyn fixed Ginny's make-up and stood.

"Great."

"It's just the truth," Ellyn responded.

A pop. "Sergi has the misses' food, Miss Ellyn," she said timidly.

"I won't be eating. I need to get back," Ellyn said as she swept toward the door. She turned. "Oh, and Ginny? Be sure to come down when you're done. If you have the guts, that is."

She nodded to Sergi and left, closing the door in a manner that might have been called a slam to a generous passerby.

* * *

Ellyn's face must have been more dangerous than she realized, because everyone left her alone for almost five minutes once she got back to the hall. During her precious time, she mulled over Ginny's inexplicable fear.

Harry wasn't something to be afraid of...on the contrary, he was incredibly easy to push around—almost to the point that Ellyn felt bad doing it.

A shadow fell over Ellyn. She sighed heavily and avoided eye contact as someone asked her, "May I have this dance, my lady?"

"I'd be delighted, sir," she acknowledged, taking the offered hand.

Immediately, she was whisked off her chair. "I'll bet you weren't expecting me," Harry whispered as he led her to the dance floor.

"Harry!" she exclaimed as softly as she could. "Thank Merlin! Where have you been this whole time?"

"Hiding," Harry answered easily. "That Pricilla Buchanon wouldn't leave me alone. I managed to slip away, and I hid behind that ice sculpture of the snake."

"Good thinking," Ellyn said. "I wish I could hide from all these dolts."

"You managed well enough earlier. You were gone for almost twenty minutes!"

"I was...meeting someone."

"Ohhhh," Harry said all-knowingly. Then his expression clouded. "It wasn't Malfoy, was it?"

Ellyn removed her hand from his shoulder and hit him as best she could without drawing attention to them. "It wasn't like that! And it certainly wasn't Malfoy!"

"If you say so," Harry allowed, clearly not believing her.

There was silence for a moment. Ellyn found herself wishing she could dance with Harry all night—their conversation was so easy, their dance was not difficult to follow, and whatever scent his cologne was...it smelled _good._

Suddenly, Harry tripped a bit. Ellyn waited for the profuse apology, but it never came. Concerned, she looked up at Harry. He wasn't looking at her, but staring over her shoulder. Ellyn whirled him around so she could see what was so fascinating.

There, at the top of the entrance steps, stood Ginny. Ginny's dress was a beautiful pale gold. It flowed from bodice to skirt easily, seamlessly.

Tiny flowering had been stitched into the bodice, and a trail of the same flowers fell down the skirt. Instead of sleeves, Ginny wore long, sheer gloves.

She wore a tiny gold tiara in her luscious red curls. A delicate golden necklace adorned her neck.

Ellyn stepped back. "You love her, don't you." It wasn't a question.

Harry hung his head.

"Go," Ellyn whispered, giving him a shove. "Heaven knows she's been waiting long enough."

On her way off the floor, Ellyn dropped by the orchestra and asked for a slow song. Then she went back to her chair to watch the action unfold.

* * *

Harry was there to meet Ginny at the bottom of the steps. "Hey, Gin," he whispered as he offered her his arm.

Ginny smiled slightly as she took it. "Hey, Harry," she responded.

"Want to dance?"

Ginny laughed. "I see Ellyn's done a fantastic job on you," she giggled.

"I'm sorry—may I have this dance?" Harry said fantastically. Then he dropped the façade. "Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"Oh, fine," Ginny answered as if it were the world's greatest hardship to dance with the guy of your dreams. Only her ear-to-ear smile revealed her happiness.

* * *

Ellyn danced with many other men that night, always keeping an eye on Harry and Ginny. They were so happy, she almost couldn't believe it.

"What is this, a fairy tale?" she muttered to herself fondly.

"Sorry?" asked the guy who was dancing with her. "Didn't catch that."

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Ellyn responded.

* * *

"This is your _room, _Ellyn?" Harry asked in disbelief. "This is huge!"

"Yeah...the bed is the best bit of it, though," Ellyn answered.

"Why is that?" Ginny wanted to know.

"It's the best bed for jumping on in the whole of England, not to mention the size is just perfect for three jumpers."

Harry and Ginny smiled wickedly.

Without being quite sure of how they got there, all three of them were on the bed and frolicking about like five-year olds. Only when Harry stepped on Ginny's train, fell, and brought Ginny crashing to the bed, too, did the party end.

As Ellyn lay there, listening to Harry snoring on the other side of Ginny and watching Ginny smile in her sleep, she realized that this was the way things were supposed to be.

Harry and Ginny were a couple made in heaven, long as it had taken them to reach that conclusion.

And, no matter what happened, they would always be a family. After all, they had braved the Snake Pit together.

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

So, there we have it. Hope I didn't disappoint too many of you. I'm on the fence for a sequel. What do you guys think?

Here we are. I already felt a little lost without this story, so I've started another. Here's the synopsis of A Moment's Choice:

Zoey Barker's life is turned upside down in one night when she finds a wounded boy in an alley of London. Unwittingly, she helps him, and finds herself cast into a world that there is no way she can understand. After all, there's no such thing as magic. Is there?

Coming soon! Look for it on my bio page.

So, here's your last chance—tell me what you think of The Snake Pit.

Hugs to you all—hope to see you in my next story!

~Boston


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